


Make the Yuletide Gay

by Liritar



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Christmas Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-22
Updated: 2016-12-22
Packaged: 2018-09-11 06:09:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,279
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8960677
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Liritar/pseuds/Liritar
Summary: Dave teaches Karkat about Christmas traditions.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [khie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/khie/gifts).



> For Khie and her niece, the adorable two-year-old DaveKat shipper in training, who thinks Dave and Karkat should bake cookies together. Here you go, sweetie.

“Right. It’s time to fucking school you in Christmas traditions.” Dave crossed his arms, gazing stoically at his matesprit, who was glaring back at him.

“Why should I give a fuck about stupid human traditions?” Karkat growled.

Dave sighed. “Because you love me and want to spend time with me.”

“Oh. Yeah. That.” Karkat deflated slightly. “Okay, so, what are we doing?”

He waved a hand around the house. “We’re gonna fucking be Santa, babe. Christmassing the fuck out of this joint.”

The troll just stared at him. “What the fuck does that even _mean_ , you intolerable fuckface?”

Dave laughed. “Come on, babe, we have to decorate and all that shit. You guys decorated for your Christmassy Perigee’s Thing, right?”

“Yes, Dave, that’s exactly what it’s called, thank you so much.” Dave grinned as Karkat let out one of his exasperated sighs. “Right, so show me what humans do, so I can tell you how much fucking stupider your customs are than ours.”

Dave walked him through decorating the tree that he’d wrangled inside that afternoon. That had been a fucking adventure in its own right, really. He wasn’t a big guy, really, and like hell was he asking for help. Well, more than he’d already done. He’d get to _that_ shitshow later.

The actual act of decorating turned out to be similar, though Karkat was a bit freaked out by the sheer amount of red that went everywhere. Dave supposed that made sense, with his color being all but outlawed on Alternia or whatever, but Kar would get over it. He was a tough little dude.

Dave smiled at him as they worked. This was actually nice. He’d never really done Christmas in Texas, and it would have been hella ironic if they had. It wouldn’t have been sincere, like this. Actually celebrating each other’s company. And when Karkat smiled back at him… fuck, it made his heart melt. Love was the best fucking thing ever, even if it was hella gay.

And then the tree was done, and Dave retrieved the messily wrapped presents he’d alchemized for Karkat, displaying them under the tree. He straightened up--hehe, not likely--and met his boyfriend’s confused gaze. “What the fuck is all that?”

The human felt like he’d been punched in the gut. His baby had _never_ gotten a present? At least he’d gotten ironic gifts sometimes. And he’d had John, Rose, and Jade. “Gifts,” he said softly. “From… from me. To you,” he added, since Karkat still seemed lost.

“Why?” the troll said, his voice quieter than Dave had ever heard it.

“Because…” Dave floundered, trying to think of something to say that wouldn’t just sound lame. Oh, fuck it. Karkat got a troll-hard-on for sappy romantic shit anyway. “Because I love you,” he muttered, looking at his feet to hide his flush. “And it’s Christmas, and… I just fucking love you so much.”

Karkat let out a choked sob. Dave lifted his head in panic, but then the troll was wrapped around him, soaking his shoulder with tears and mumbling muffled words into his cape. “Hey, now,” he murmured, carefully patting Karkat’s back. “I can take them back if it’s a problem.” His lips twitched despite his effort to remain stoic.

The troll pulled back and punched his shoulder lightly. “Don’t you fucking dare, douchelord.” He sniffed, pausing to wipe at his face. “That was so fucking sweet. I… I didn’t get you anything,” he said, lip trembling. “I’m a horrible human boyfriend thing.”

He tugged him back against him and into a gentle kiss. “You’re the best boyfriend,” he whispered. “You’re still learning Christmas, it’s totally chill.”

Karkat smiled up at him, eyes glistening wetly. “I love you, too,” he actually whispered. “I promise, I’ll fucking be the best at Christmas next human year. I’ll fucking shove my fist down the protein shute of anyone who says I’m not.”

Dave laughed softly. “You’re perfect now, babe,” he muttered. “You love me. That’s hella rad. And all I’ve ever needed.”

“Fuck,” Karkat whispered, clutching at him tightly.

He was more than happy to hold Karkat like that all day, but there was more shit to do. Christmas wouldn’t prepare itself. So he kissed him again, then stepped back. “Come on, sweetielovermuffin. We got all this shit left to do. Santa won’t come if we don’t make him cookies. That’s how it fucking works. Keep up.”

“Why would I want your red chimney asshole here? And didn’t your world get destroyed?” Karkat was scowling again. Everything was back to normal.

“Santa’s magic. And he brings presents, duh.” Dave reached out to ruffle his lover’s hair, then grabbed his hand and tugged him towards the kitchen.

“Wait, cookies involves cooking?” Karkat struggled to free himself. “ _You’re_ going to cook? Fuck, I’m going to die, you smug god-tiered tool! Actually, so are you. Because stupidity is more than enough reason for it to be a just death!”

He laughed. “Aww, babe, you do care.” Pushing Karkat into a chair, Dave moved to pick up the paper Dad Crockerbert had given him. “No one’s dying, jerkass,” he said, waving his instructions, “I have a recipe.”

“Wow,” the troll said, really fucking unimpressed. “You know you’re fucking horrible at following instructions, right? Like, every time I tell you to do something, you fuck it up in new and unforeseen ways. Even our fucking Seers can’t predict how much you’re going to fuck up.”

“Harsh, babe. Hella harsh.” Dave grinned at him as he fetched the ingredients Crocker had supplied him with. And the utensils the man had loaned him. And other kitchen things he’d never used in his life.

Karkat sat where he’d deposited him, arms crossed and looking, somehow, patiently exasperated. He was good like that.

“So, I mix this with this,” he muttered to himself, carefully measuring. He had to do this right. For Karkat. “Fuck, which one is a tablespoon?” He stared down at the two spoons in his hand. Each started with a T. Jegus, wasn’t this confusing enough without their TSPS and TBSPS?

“How the fuck should I know?” Suddenly Karkat was behind him, trying to peer around him at his dilemma. “That one,” he suddenly said, pointing to the larger one.

“Why?” Dave blinked at him behind his shades.

“Because it has a B in it, you infuriating dumbass. Tablespoon. TBSP. Grow a fucking thinkpan, would you?” A fond smile graced Karkat’s lips. He never meant it when he said stuff like that. Hell, that was practically “I love you,” coming from him. Dave beamed back and measured out more stuff.

He shoved the bowl at Karkat. “Here, stir that. I gotta mix the other stuff.”

The troll rolled his eyes and started stirring the bowl of ingredients. “What the fuck is even all this powdery shit?”

“Uh. Flour and sugar and shit. Dude. Dude. There’s so much sugar, you’re gonna flip.” Dave grinned at him.

“Oh, I see how it is. You just want me blitzed out of my thinkpan so you can take advantage of me.” Karkat scowled at him, but his eyes twinkled. Yeah, he was trying not to laugh.

“Dude,” Dave said, smirking. “I don’t need to get you drunk to get in your pants.”

Karkat reached out and gently shoved his face. “Fuck off, douche.”

He twisted to kiss the shoving hand. “Love you, too, baby mine.”

“Don’t you ever shut up?” Karkat growled, but he was blushing.

“Nope.” Dave made a kissy face at him and dumped the wet stuff into the dry stuff. “Keep stirring, babe, it’s looking… good?” He had no idea. He checked his recipe again. Yeah, okay, that sounded right.

“You have no idea what you’re doing.”

“That’s a vile lie, Vantas. I’m all up in this shit making cookies like a fucking pro.”

“There’s better not be shit anywhere near this, you fucking tool.”

“Ew, no, come on, it’s just a saying.” Dave shook his head at him. “Okay, so we, um, take a spoon? And put cookies on the baking sheet. Okay. I can do that.” He spooned out lumps of dough in random spatters all over the cookie sheet.

“That looks disgusting, Dave. I’m not eating that. Ever.”

“Fuck off, it’s not done. Somehow it turns into cookies in the oven.” He shoved the tray in the oven and slammed the door shut. “Now we wait. For cookies. It’ll be fucking sweet, just wait, baby.”

Karkat shot him an exasperated look. “Just shut up, Strider. I will try _one_ of your sugary abominations. If the fire that’s sure to come doesn’t incinerate us all. And I fully expect the cookie to kill me.”

Dave pouted at him. “I’m not going to poison you,” he muttered, kicking a foot dejectedly.

The troll gazed at him for a moment, then sighed. “Oh, come on, Strider. I know that. I’m going to eat your fucking cookies, whatever those are. Stop being an idiot.”

“Aw, but you love me when I’m an idiot,” Dave said, grinning.

“Because I’ve never seen you be anything else. Sit the fuck down and shut up.”

Dave sat down and shut up. For a good minute. Before he opened his mouth again. “I should alchemize you a Christmas sweater. Oooh, or a Santa hat. You’d look fucking adorable in a Santa hat.”

“No. Fuck no. Fuck no with a side of shut the fuck up.” Karkat flipped him off. “I’m already letting you poison me, I don’t want my corpse to look ridiculous.”

“Dude. You have no Christmas spirit. Like, the Grinch and Scrooge had a baby, and it’s you. You are the epic child of gay Christmas hate.”

The look Karkat gave him could have frozen a volcano. “Strider. I have no idea what you’re talking about, but it’s stupid. I’m going to cram my fist down your squawk blister until you can’t talk ever again.”

“Awww.” Dave’s pouting knew no bounds. He was a fucking master. A black belt pouter. A sensei of the way of the wobbling lip. Okay, this was running away from him. And sounded gay as hell. He tugged Karkat down on the couch beside him. “I can think of something better to do with my mouth to shut me up,” he said, grinning.

“You’re an epic douche,” Karkat growled, but that didn’t stop him from kissing him. Fuck yes. Karkat kisses were the best kisses. All soft but with teeth. Gentle, but with a bite. Just like his baby.

Right, thinking about kisses was preventing him from thinking about kisses. Or enjoying this one. That’s what he meant. He made a disappointed moue as Karkat pulled away.

“How long are your cookies supposed to be in the cookbox?”

Dave blinked up at him and cursed. He pushed Karkat off of him and sped to the kitchen, pulling the cookies out of the oven. He regarded them carefully. They were a bit black and crispy around the edges, but they looked okay. He set the pan down for them to cool.

“You ruined them, didn’t you?” Karkat poked carefully at a burnt edge with one claw.

“They’re supposed to be like that,” Dave countered weakly.

The troll gave him a knowing look, but didn’t comment again. “So, are we eating these, or what?”

“They have to cool, man. Just chill for a minute, it’s cool.” He wrapped an arm around Karkat. “And we can’t eat all of them. We have to leave a plate for Santa. And milk.”

“Fuck Santa, and fuck milk,” Karkat grumbled.

Dave clutched his chest dramatically. “Fuck Santa? Dude, you’re seriously asking to not get any presents.”

“Like the ones you already put under the tree? I’m so fucking worried.” He snorted loudly.

“No, you get those, whatever, but Santa won’t bring you presents. Jegus, Kar, try to keep up.” Dave shook his head sadly. Karkat was just angling to get on the naughty list. Heh, Dave bet he could make Karkat be _really_ naughty. What was he doing, again? Right. “There’s more presents if you’re good.”

Karkat sighed. “Shut up, Dave.” He wrapped his arm around his human, nuzzling into his shoulder. “You’re a fucking idiot.”

Dave held Karkat tightly, smiling into his hair. “Love you, Kar.” He lowered his voice. “This is going to be the best Christmas ever.”

Karkat’s arms tightened around him. “Okay,” he muttered. “If it’ll make you happy, I’ll do whatever Human Christmas stuff you want.”

“First, the hat. Then we can eat cookies.”

Karkat let out a long suffering sigh as Dave ran off to find a Santa hat, which he later perched between his horns. Oh, fuck, that was the most adorable thing. Scowling grumpy Christmas Karkat. He wanted to make Christmas cards.

“Okay, sit here. I’ll get the cookies.” He dashed into the kitchen and put some cookies on a plate. And poured a glass of milk. Because you drank milk with cookies, right? That’s… that’s what they did on TV. He pushed the plate into Karkat’s hands and dropped down next to him. “Go on, try one.” He nervously sipped at the glass of milk. Okay, fuck that. There was a reason he drank AJ. He put the milk down on the coffee table.

Karkat stared down at the plate uncertainly for a moment, then picked up a cookie. He broke it in half and sniffed the inside. “Huh.” He lifted a half to his mouth and took a tentative nibble. “Mmf. I’s not bad,” he mumbled around a sudden mouthful of cookie.

Dave grinned and took one himself. Fuck yes, he’d cooked something. And Karkat liked it.

Life was fucking good.


End file.
